Hey Jealousy
by chasingfireflies
Summary: Because it doesn't matter who they are - training or no, it's the one thing that'll always get to them, and the things it can make them do. -- .:oneshotcollection:.
1. Almosts And Maybes

**Disclaimer: No. Just no.**

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"Chuck, you know it won't work."

"What?"

He tore his pensive gaze from the glass doors of the Buymore and fixed it on the blonde who'd appeared beside him. He frowned at her when she gave him a somewhat exasperated look, gesturing to the door – or more accurately, the figure of the woman who'd just left through it.

"That," she said simply, as if it explained everything. "Dating a new woman. It's never worked for you before."

He gave her a deadpanning expression and turned his eyes away again, watching Morgan try to sell a rather large man a blender.

"Thanks for that reminder," he replied dryly. Sarah frowned. "Doesn't matter anyway, I wasn't thinking about it."

"Of course you weren't," she sighed out, rolling her eyes. She leant over the Nerd Herd counter directly opposite him to catch his attention, in such a way that they were only inches apart. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn't attempt to look away.

"I really wasn't. The thought stopped crossing my mind after you gave me the same speech for the third time," he said. "All that 'you're an important piece of intelligence, and any woman who showed interest would need both her background and her motives checked' stuff. Kind of made all thoughts of romance lose their appeal."

Sarah pursed her lips.

"It's not my fault," she defended simply, shrugging ever so slightly. "And I really am sorry. But it's true – you're an important asset, and there's a large possibility that any potential suitor has opposing motives."

He deadpanned again.

"Because god forbid any woman ever like me just because I'm a nice guy," he commented dryly. She frowned at the statement – she hadn't meant anything like that. "I mean, maybe – just _maybe _– there's a girl out there who might like me for me. But no. It's always an evil plot to get all the big secrets out of my brain. _There's_ a clear way to weed out the threats against American security – arrest any woman who's ever approached me. Again, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."

"Doesn't matter, because I wasn't thinking about it," he told her simply, shrugging slightly. Her eyes narrowed.

"You don't lie very well, Chuck."

"Good thing," he stated matter-of-factly. "If that's a fact, then you should know that I'm not lying right now."

His expectant stare unnerved her slightly, and she bit her lip, staring straight back. He put one hand under his chin, holding his head up slightly, and cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to speak.

"Which is funny, because I could've sworn you were looking at that woman as if you were very _deeply_ interested," she persisted quietly. He quirked an eyebrow again.

"Oh _please_," he replied wryly. "If I didn't see Carina that way, I sincerely doubt there was any interest in _that _woman _what_soever. She really just wasn't my type."

She couldn't ignore that logic, so she relented and softened her gaze a reasonable amount, giving him a small, rather satisfied smile.

"Good," she said. "Besides, she really wasn't that pretty."

"No, she really wasn't," Chuck agreed, and the small light in his eyes, along with the smile that was almost falling on his lips, had her wondering briefly exactly what he was thinking right then. "You're playing very well today, Sarah," he commented casually, and she gave him a questioning look. "Your cover. You're playing it very well today. More so than normal."

"Really?" she asked, copying him and cocking her head to the side. He nodded, although barely, because they were still very nearly touching. She had a feeling that if they had physical contact in any way at that moment and that proximity, there was a large maybe that they'd wind up working some very convincing, very unplanned, and very inappropriate-for-their-actual-relationship, cover work. She wondered if he knew that too.

"Mmhmm," he replied wordlessly. "Coming in to see me on your day off, Sarah? Not to mention, for a second there, anyone other than me would've believed you were actually jealous."

She smirked.

"Good thing I'm a better liar than you, then," she noted smugly, but he merely smirked right back at her, staring straight into her eyes.

"Oh, I don't think you are," he said slowly. "Not to me, anyway. I'm just a remarkably oblivious person ninety percent of the time. I happen to think you _are _a bit jealous, actually. I think you really kind of crave my attention."

"No wonder Casey thinks you're deluded," she commented after a moment, refusing to let the smile fade from her face. Far from swaying him, though, it only seemed to make him more comfortable with what he was saying.

"You see, every time I show interest in another woman, Sarah," he explained softly, and she had to lean forward to hear him, because his voice was that low. Where there had been inches between them before, there was now only centimetres. "You seem to do something with our cover that goes above and beyond the necessary course of action."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed lightly, but she couldn't stop the faint tinge of pink that flushed across her face. He stared at her boldly, and she bit her lip at the uncommon glint in his eyes. "Like what?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things," he said casually. "But of course, on the assumption that I'm wrong, and you aren't jealous, I guess I'll just have to wait for that one woman who doesn't show interest in me just because I'm an important governmental asset. I'm sure she'll be beautiful, unexpected, intelligent… I think she'd pass the background check. The motives, though… that's questionable."

"You're talking as though you've already met this girl, Chuck," Sarah breathed, and the closeness now was intoxicating. Master of playing a cover though she was, she couldn't help but glance down to his lips quickly. The small upturn at the corner of his mouth showed her he'd caught her, and she couldn't help swallowing tensely.

She saw his hand move from beneath his chin, and somewhere in her mind she knew, beyond the incoherency that came from their proximity, exactly what he was going to do. As an agent, she knew that she should have been moving away from him right about then, if she hadn't earlier. Both fortunately and unfortunately, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"You could say that."

"…Should tell Casey to check out her record…" she whispered, feeling her eyelids droop.

Internally, she was wondering why he hadn't just kissed her already, because being that close and being tempted in such a way was nothing less than torture. If it were anyone else, she would've thought they were toying with her, but it was Chuck who was doing it, and she knew that he wouldn't be doing so without a reason.

He had an ulterior motive for dragging on their _almost_ kiss that could _maybe _make them something more than just a cover, and it wasn't just that Casey was somewhere in the same store. And that was why she realised his point.

He was keeping her no more than an inch away from him, leaving her there, because their relationship was based on 'almost's and 'maybe's, and she needed to realise that it couldn't last forever.

"I think her record's clean, as far as this'll go," she heard him say quietly. She could feel the heat of his fingers, nearly touching the skin of her jaw, and she bit her lip quietly. "I might ruin it."

"I don't think she'll mind," she whispered heavily, and she could see him smiling slightly through her half-closed eyes.

"I hope not," he replied, and she almost didn't hear him.

The fact that she'd been waiting for it didn't make the feeling of his fingertips trailing down her jaw line seem any less intense, or stop the hot flush from seeping through her. It was doubled moments later, when his lips brushed gently against hers, and she barely restrained herself from letting out a moan. Yet, she still couldn't stop a small whimper from escaping her, and she felt him smile gently against her lips.

Several more moments of this pleasing contact passed between them, where the only touching parts of them were his lips on hers and his fingers on the side of her face. They broke apart briefly when Morgan gave them a loud wolf whistle, and they glanced over to see that his customer was gone, probably having been offended in some way or another by the little man. Chuck smiled momentarily at his friend before looking back to Sarah, who stared at him coolly.

She gave him a small smile, and her eyes glinted curiously.

"Jealousy, huh?" she asked softly, leaning towards him again. "You were right," she confessed. "There are few things I crave, Chuck, but you're definitely one of them."

He grinned, and she let out a shaky breath.

"No more maybes, no more almosts," she breathed, and she barely heard him let out a soft chuckle before she pressed her lips against his again.

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**R&R?**


	2. Shifting Jealousy

**Passing reference this time, as I do.**

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She gave the man one last intense stare, her eyes spelling promise in volumes. She shifted in front of his lustful eyes, lifting a hand to the buttons of his shirts while his gaze swept from her head to her toes once more. Appreciative, wanting, leaking desire.

Then he crumpled to the floor.

"Stupid waste of time," two voices said, neither of them hers.

Sarah glanced to her left, identifying Chuck as one of the speakers – his eyes locked on the man on the floor in evident disgust, and his clenched fist marking him as the one who'd knocked out the mark. Casey strode to her other side, staring down at the man on the floor with a similarly disgusted expression. Sarah frowned at the fact that the two of them, rarely having gotten along in the past, had just spoken in chorus. That was followed by a brief moment of wonder at the fact that they'd both gotten into the hotel room without her realising it.

Then she flared up.

"Weren't we supposed to be getting information from him? How do you intend us to do that if he's been knocked out?" she asked irately, aiming the question at Chuck. He barely spared her a glance before pursing his lips and moving to pull the man on the hotel room floor over to the bed. Of course, a small part of her was remarkably satisfied with the idea of Chuck's jealousy.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist, Walker," Casey said snidely from her other side. "Why is it that every time you're interrupted before 'getting to know' your mark, you always assume Bartowski's jealous? We stole all his intel when you went to the bathroom half an hour ago. Didn't even tell us anything we didn't already really know. We were saving you from the disgrace of bedding a complete loser."

"What the hell books have you been reading in your spare time, Casey? 'Disgrace of bedding'? _Really?_ The 'complete loser' jibe was totally you, but _seriously_…" Chuck muttered dryly, working quickly to mess up the bed sheets before dragging off all but the unconscious man's undershirt and boxers, and dumping him unceremoniously on the bed. Afterwards, he shook his hand, looking sickened, and burned his stony gaze into the knocked out man's motionless body.

"Shut up, Bartowski," Casey grumbled darkly. Chuck merely shook his hands again.

"Can I wash my hands before the sleazebag infects me, please?" he asked slowly, and Casey rolled his eyes slightly, gesturing towards the bathroom. Chuck disappeared into it, and a moment later the two agents heard the sound of running water in the bathroom sink. "It's like cooties all over again," they heard him mutter sarcastically, and Casey laughed to himself.

"Like hell you got the information half an hour ago," Sarah muttered grudgingly, pulling the shoulder strap of her dress back into place. "Chuck just faked another flash for some stupid reason."

"Thanks for your high opinions," came the dull voice from the bathroom doorway behind her, and she turned to see him drying his hands on his black vest. It was a classy bartender uniform for him and Casey this evening.

"Stop being such a hard ass, Walker," Casey said, his tone similar to Chuck's, and coming from him the comment felt a lot like a slap in the face. "For your information, we'd been spiking the guy's drinks with pentothal since he first ordered. All I had to do was drop a casual comment in passing on drug lords, and he spilled everything in minutes. Similarly, he was so drunk by then he didn't even realise he was saying it. Only reason we didn't pull you out earlier is because that place was really quite crowded, and it'd be suspicious if you made such a scene."

"And it's not at all suspicious that I came up to his hotel room with one man, and came back down ten minutes later with two others," she retorted. Casey grunted.

"That's why _you're_ going home, and _we're_ both going to go back and finish our fake shifts at the bar," he replied slowly, spelling it out for her.

"After I wash my hands a couple more hundred times," Chuck put in, glancing at the bathroom door again. "Dead bodies, people covered in blood, dying enemy agents – I can deal with them. Touching unconscious sleazy men just feels disgusting."

"You go do that," Casey told him with a sneer. "Just don't wash your hands off entirely. It'll freak out that girl downstairs."

Chuck nodded, cracking a momentary grin and disappearing back into the bathroom, starting the tap again.

"Girl downstairs?" Sarah asked stiffly. Casey let out a sadistic grin.

"That's why he's so moody about coming up here, I think," he replied. "He was chatting up this pretty brunette. She looked interested. _Very _interested."

He gave her a cruel smile, and for a second she had a brief moment of clarity – that evil man was baiting her. He knew that the burning feeling she got whenever Chuck had another woman show interest in him was twisting down her spine right then. She felt the abrupt need to hit someone already. And Casey _knew_.

Sarah's eyes narrowed at him, just in time to hear Chuck coming out of the bathroom behind her once again.

"Feeling clean again," he announced briefly. "Perfect end to an evening, I think. Always comes in threes. I KO'ed a guy, Hannah owes me a drink before this 'shift' ends, and I look forward to her answering the prize interest test question."

Unfortunately, Casey appeared to be baiting her with the truth.

"Kill me now," Casey drawled, leading the way to the door. Chuck grinned, stepping through before him while Sarah brought up the rear.

"You already turned my microphone off, Casey," he reminded with a smile. "So you won't have to hear her opinion on sandwiches. Plus, we'll be off in a half hour anyway."

Sarah watched Casey's lip curl up in distaste at the comment, and then the two men turned off to the staircase when she pressed the button on the elevator. She felt slightly stung when the both of them disappeared into the stairwell without a single word of farewell to her – Casey to finish his bartending shift, and Chuck to slack off and flirt with some random girl. She couldn't help but scowl at how easily the weight of jealousy had switched between them.

As if to add insult to injury, five minutes later, as she exited the hotel and headed for her Porsche, her earwig crackled to life.

"_So, Hannah, what's your answer? Best sandwich to take on a deserted island?"_

"…_Roast beef. Definitely roast beef."_

"_And that's definitely on the list of positive votes for you."_

Damn Casey to hell.

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**R&R?**


	3. What Words Can't Fix

**I'd imagine this around Chuck vs the Crown Vic.**

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"What are you doing, Sarah?"

She stopped walking, feeling a shiver rush down her spine while it started getting dark around them. His apartment building had always seemed so open and comforting before, but the walls were closing in now, and the darkening sky told her she needed to leave.

She wasn't prepared to face him, and if she'd actually had any choice in the matter, she wouldn't have. But that wasn't right, she realised, because she did have a choice, and she chose to stay. Bryce was gone now, and she couldn't go with him, because she'd made her own decision not to.

She'd made the choice to have to face Chuck, she realised, so she'd better buck up and do it.

"Going home for the evening," she replied simply, wondering if he could hear the struggle she'd had in pushing the words past her lips. She turned to look at him, trying to stay blank. "Were you expecting something else? Did you need me over for dinner for the cover or something?"

She saw his face contort in disapproval, lips twisting up in something resembling disgust at the words. But he didn't look away from her for a moment, merely staring at her. She knew that wasn't what he'd been asking – she could tell from the flat tone he'd had, almost criticising, as though she was doing something stupid and she should've known better.

He was right, though, because she _was _doing something stupid, and she _should _have known better.

"No," he replied dryly. "That's not what I was asking, and you know it. Stop avoiding the question. It's all you've done since I met you."

She wasn't quite prepared for the sting those words had.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she managed, hoping she sounded convincingly ignorant, but she couldn't avoid the scrutiny in his gaze. He knew what she'd done, clearly, but this certainly wasn't the expected reaction.

He was supposed to be happy, oblivious Chuck, like he always had been before, not watching her every move as if he knew her.

"You should've gone."

She glanced away, eyes closing at the comment as if he'd slapped her. She hadn't told him herself, because the choice didn't concern him – which she knew was a fat load of bull, because he cared about her in a way he shouldn't, and she knew that as well as he did, so it mattered to him a great deal. But because of that, and because she'd stayed, she figured he wouldn't ever know, and if he did find out – and he _did _find out – it wouldn't matter anyway. She was still there. She'd chosen him over Bryce.

That's why it was stupid, staying there. That was the thing she'd done that she shouldn't have, and he knew it too. But she couldn't let him have the satisfaction of catching her off-guard. She knew it was pointless to deny that she'd ever had the offer to go, but she was only human.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Chuck, but you've never made sense before, so I don't know why you should now," she said quietly. She forced her gaze back to him, right in time to see him glower at her.

"You never stop, do you," he stated dryly, and she resisted the large impulse to look away again. He'd never looked at her like that before, or spoken to her with that tone. She'd never had to deal with someone in such an unnameable state.

He wasn't angry, or sad, hurt, or even disappointed. She couldn't put a word to it – maybe he was none of those things, maybe he was all of them.

"I don't know what you're-"

"Oh, grow up, Sarah," he said quickly. It still stung. "If you're not going to talk about it, then fine, but stop making excuses. Stop lying. Switch off from spy mode for once in your life."

"You go too far!"

"I go to the exact right amount," he retorted dryly. "Why are you here, Sarah?"

"We just had a briefing-"

"Try again."

"I was _assigned _here-"

"_Try again_," he repeated, cutting over her once more. His eyes flashed angrily. "It's your assignment, and I get that, Walker, but that's no excuse. Not when you had every chance to go every _place_ you'd rather be with every _person_ you'd rather be with."

"Don't you _dare_ bring Bryce back into this!" she argued, fury ignited with the shock of him calling her 'Walker' instead of 'Sarah'. He'd never done it before, and it hurt. "Just because you're jealous of him-"

"This isn't about Bryce Larkin, it's about you!" he cut in loudly, and the tone in his voice cut her off entirely, commanding her silence. She'd never heard him so angry before, and it left her reeling. "Jealous of him? Yeah, a couple of times in my life. But not now, Sarah – not anymore. Doesn't matter that he's a super spy, or that he always gets all the perfect women – that he got me kicked out of Stanford and stabbed me in the back. It doesn't matter, Sarah, because despite all the bad past feelings, I have something he doesn't, and I'll never forget it."

"Oh, enlighten me," she drawled out slowly.

"I have _friends_," he hissed out, and that hit far too close to home. She winced. "I have a _life_. I have a _family_. So jealousy towards Bryce Larkin is far from a problem. It's not about him. It's about you."

"Why do you _care_? I'm here, okay? I'm doing my job, I'm trying to protect you. Isn't that enough?"

"Frankly, Sarah?" he asked, and the anger was gone from him. He merely sounded tired, and very, very disappointed. All that disappointment was with her. It was almost unbearable. "No. It's not."

He was telling her, in no uncertain terms, that she'd screwed up – she'd had the chance to go with Bryce, be with the man she was in 'love' with, and do the job she loved – no attachments, no crappy cover job, and no emotional roller coasters of the Chuck-Sarah kind. But she'd turned it down, and now she was taking it out on herself, and him, for doing so. And clearly, he'd rather that she'd gone with Bryce and been happy than stayed with him and had them both suffer her attitude.

"What do you want from me, Chuck?" she asked, and her tone was halfway pleading, halfway condescending.

He pursed his lips while he stared at her, and she caught her breath for a moment – she shouldn't have said it with such a tone – the first was unthinkable for an agent, the second unthinkable for a friend. No, she shouldn't have said it at all.

"Nothing, Sarah," he replied softly, the words sounding distasteful. "Nothing at all."

Then he turned and walked back to his apartment, not a word spoken, because they both knew words couldn't fix them now.

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**R&R?**


	4. The Jilted Life Partner

**Uh... Put wherever you think you should. I don't know. It wasn't attributed to any particular episode. But I should probably write one later for the Truth-Nemesis arc. Hmm.**

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They sat beside the fountain, fingers intertwined.

Probably should've let go a while ago – they were both aware of that. Neither of them could bring themselves to do it, though, even though she, Sarah, was supposed to be going home a half hour ago, and Morgan was probably expecting him, Chuck, back inside (Call of Duty waited for no man, after all).

They'd escaped the apartment after dinner and a movie with Ellie, Awesome, and Morgan, and despite the original intent of getting Sarah home, they'd wound up sitting there talking for half an hour. Not about anything particular, really.

Just talking.

They'd discussed the Ellie-Sarah cooking comparison (Ellie obviously had the trump card, they both agreed), Devon's most recent awesome outings (including flossing), and Casey's complete lack of a life apart from listening to Chuck's conversations.

The last one had them suspicious that Casey had taken to bugging the fountain, because he'd glared at them through the blinds of his apartment with positively _the _most impeccable timing. That made Chuck slightly skittish.

Nonetheless, their conversation had progressed once again, and they were now on to the topic of Morgan.

"I swear he has a fixed obsession with you."

"_That_ might be a bit much…"

"When someone can name your favourite band, colour, video game, day of the year, actor, actress, and childhood memory, all while writing down the name of every girlfriend you've ever had, I call that obsession," she contradicted quickly, giving him a sceptical look. He just grinned.

"That's not a fixed obsession, that's just two decades of being best friends and having nothing better to do with our time than play video games and talk coming to a point," he told her with a shrug. Sarah frowned.

"Don't you ever run out of things to talk about?"

Chuck looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he offered her a small shrug. " Not really." He frowned slightly. "Then again, I don't think it's possible to run out of topics with a guy like Morgan. Or me. We both fish for topics to fill silences – which isn't a good thing for Casey at all, because he'd prefer it if I never spoke again. Ever. Especially if it involves sandwiches."

"Sandwiches?"

She quirked an eyebrow and he grinned sheepishly.

"If I continue that conversation with you, he might actually shoot me," he said. "Casey's already suffered a lot of it. I think I'll cut him a break."

"Until he threatens you again, and you want to get him back."

Chuck laughed lightly, nodding and looking to the sky.

"Exactly. Then I'll delight you with a four hour conversation about sandwiches."

"Four hours? Really? You can carry on a conversation about _sandwiches _for _four hours_?"

"Never doubt the team of Morgan Grimes and Chuck Bartowski. We could probably take down Fulcrum just by locking them in a room with a P.A system for a few days," he joked quietly, and Sarah smiled wryly, shaking her head and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Assuming they last that long."

"Yes, assuming they last that long," he agreed, and he gave her a small smile. "And if the conversation doesn't get them, then we can just get Morgan to sing."

"Can Morgan actually sing?" Sarah asked with a small smile. Chuck grinned.

"In short?" he offered quickly with a short laugh. "…No."

Sarah's smile grew slightly more pronounced. "What about you, Chuck? Can _you _sing?" she asked playfully, and he pulled a slightly thoughtful expression.

"Well, I'm not fantastic," he told her simply, shrugging. "But on the bright side, I don't sound like a starving walrus, so…" He trailed off for a moment while she giggled before locking his eyes back on her. "What about you, Sarah? Can you sing?"

"Uh… no…" she said shortly, glancing away. "Not really. But again, I don't really know much in terms of music, anyway, so it's not a problem."

Chuck turned his head to the side slightly, eyes not leaving hers, and she stared at the small smile on his face.

"Have to fix that," he said simply. "Consider it a personal mission. I'll find you a favourite band, if it's the last thing I do." She gave him an appraising smile.

"I'm sure you will," she said, and he smiled at the complete lack of sarcasm in her tone, nodding slightly at the statement.

Their eyes locked, and just like that the entire atmosphere changed around them – the lightness turned to electricity and the easiness turned to intensity. They were both crucially aware of their fingers still intertwined, and the small space between them – too little for a moment like this. Before either of them realised, they were an inch away, eyes on lips, breathing accelerated by the anticipation.

"Hey, Chuck, man, I thought you said you were coming back in-"

Everything froze. Then Chuck sighed, resting his forehead on Sarah's for a moment, to which she smiled gently. They were both perfectly content to ignore the little man's interruption, but apparently Morgan wasn't happy enough to leave it as is.

"Well, yeah, that was forty minutes ago, so I was wondering if you were going to come back inside. The game's all set up and everything, an-"

Chuck's sigh turned into a growl, cutting the little man off again. But Morgan, it appeared, just couldn't take a hint.

"Hey, I was just wondering, because you said you-"

"Morgan, if you don't shut up and get lost right now, I swear, you are going to regret it for the rest of your life," Chuck grumbled, his voice low and threatening.

"But _Chuck_…"

"I'll set Casey on you," Chuck warned, pulling away from Sarah to throw the guy a glare. "Go away."

"But you said you'd play Call Of Duty tonight!"

"Yeah, once Sarah went home," Chuck replied dryly. "And evidently, Sarah's still here. So can we have some privacy, please?" He turned back to Sarah, and mouthed an apology, and she merely smiled and shook her head.

"But Chuck," Morgan whined again. "It's like… Sarah never goes home," the man continued. Chuck grumbled to himself, letting his head fall heavily on Sarah's shoulder.

"I'm going to murder him," Chuck muttered against her shoulder, and she grinned, lifting her free hand to play with his hair.

"You're always with Sarah. We never have any Chuck-Morgan time anymore," Morgan complained slowly. "I mean, for a while I could ignore it, but you're my life partner, and you never spend time with me anymore. If this whole thing keeps going the way it is, I think our relationship's going to be in serious peril."

"Yeah, because if you don't go away _right now_, Anna will be filing a missing person's report within the next two days and your body will be washing up on the Santa Monica beach before morning," Chuck grumbled slowly.

"Bu-"

"No, _seriously_, Morgan," Chuck cut in before he could continue protesting. "Is this _really _the best time? Couldn't you have absolutely _delighted _me with your insecurities about our friendship when I came _inside_? Or at work, even?"

"Well, I could've, but it didn't seem like the most con-"

"Oh my god," Chuck exclaimed roughly, jerking upright and glaring at his friend again, absolutely livid. Morgan froze, eyes widening, possibly fearing for his life. "Not _now_, Morgan. Go. Now. Shoo. Away."

And like that, Morgan was off, running back towards the apartment. He couldn't resist calling back over his shoulder, one last time.

"Just saying, Chuck – bros before h-"

"I swear to _god_, if you _finish _that statement, I will _murder _you!" Chuck yelled, drowning the little man out angrily, and he kept his glare on Morgan's back until the door closed behind him. Then he took his hand back from Sarah and put his head in his hands.

After a few moments, she put a soothing hand on his back, calming him down while he fumed about his sometimes-moronic best friend and mourned the moment lost.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few minutes, letting his hands drop from his face and staring at the ground. "His head-to-mouth filter's broken."

Sarah just smiled. "That's okay," she said gently, getting to her feet. "I should probably be going anyway. It's getting late." He lifted his eyes to follow her, a small frown on his face.

"You don't have to…" he protested softly, staring at her while she stood before him. She smiled, taking his hands and encouraging him to stand up. When he was standing in front of her, she lifted one hand to the side of his face, lifted herself onto her toes and pressed her lips against his, taking him by surprise. Shocked or not, he was quick to respond, and soon enough she had both arms around his neck, both of his around her waist, and it was getting very heated very quickly.

She ended the kiss soon after her fingers started fisting in his hair, cautious of just how far she let herself slip, knowing that she wasn't _supposed _to be kissing him, least of all like that. She brushed her lips against his a few more times, softer now, before letting him go entirely. He consented to let go of her in turn, though somewhat reluctantly.

"Hmm…" was the only sound she let out for another moment. "My place next time?" she asked after another moment, opening her eyes to see him looking back at her, politely dazed. He nodded slightly, and she smiled.

One last, chaste kiss, and she turned to go home.

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**R&R?**


	5. Forgive Me

**Wherever floats your imaginary boat (or, if you're somewhat wealthy, your real one). Passing Sarah-jealousy reference. Catch it?**

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Her body relaxed in his arms, and Sarah felt a gasp tear from her lips.

"What did you _do_?" she hissed, struggling to keep her head up, let alone keep any control over the rest of her body. Chuck didn't answer, hooking an arm behind her knees and dragging her up into his arms. She had a brief flash of surprise that he had the strength to lift her at all, but it was quickly overtaken by rage as he carried her to the car and put her down in the back seat.

"You'll be fine, Sarah," he muttered grimly, and she saw him move a small syringe from the hand that had been holding her up around the back to the seat pocket in front of her. "It's just a little sleep. You need it."

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" she said, cursing the drugs for taking such a quick effect. Her vision and her speech were getting groggy, and she could barely move at all. "We're here on a mission, for christ's sake, and you're knocking me out! This is the stupidest of all stupid things you've done, and if I don't kill you for it when I can properly move again, Casey wi-"

"When you wake up in a half hour," he told her, ignoring her completely. "And you _will _wake up, because Devon got the dosage and the drug, and I trust him with your life as much as I trust you with mine – I want you to open the door to that warehouse, and act as though the guards aren't all dead and you're actually going through the original mission plan. Case the place, save the hostages, and then report back to Beckman that I disobeyed orders again, and it finally caught up to me. Call Casey in first, though, just in case. I might miss a few."

"What are you saying, Chuck?"

She blinked a few times, staving off the black spots obscuring her vision, and shook her head for as much as she was able. He looked at her with semi-haunted eyes, clearly apologetic, and she almost figured it all out before he said it.

"They have Ellie, Sarah," he said simply, and the thought flashed through her like a knife. It explained the obvious set up of the Fulcrum unit, why Chuck had insisted on giving Casey the night off for this 'easy mission', as he'd said, the reason he was drugging her, and why Devon had helped him pick out the serum. Sarah felt a brief flash of envy for the other woman.

If there was one person Chuck Bartowski would go all out for, it was his sister.

"And Devon knows?" she asked weakly, wanting nothing more at that moment than to deliver a hard punch to Chuck's jaw and send him flying. She was getting hazy, but she still felt his soft fingertips running over her face – memorizing lines and curves and features. That told her one thing.

He didn't plan on coming back from this one.

"I told him."

"Chuck, if he knows then he's not safe," she breathed out. "We can't protect him if you do this."

"I have to," he told her gently. "I'm so, so sorry, Sarah. For everything. But it has to be done."

"We can still save her. Call Casey – wait a half hour," she said, her voice getting quieter, her eyes drooping closed. "We can still save her, Chuck. Without losing you…"

"We couldn't if we tried," he told her gently, and she barely felt him kiss her on the cheek. "They weren't going to make it quick, Sarah. I don't know how they found out, but it's me or Ellie, and I can't let them… I can't let her die slow, Sarah. I'd rather take her place. I'm not willing to let her go today."

She felt him take the gun from her belt, leaving her the one strapped to her ankle. As far as she knew, he didn't know how to use a gun, but in the ease he'd taken it from her she figured he'd learnt recently. And quickly, too.

"But you're willing to leave me behind."

"I'd take your place just as quickly as I'm taking hers if it were you they had, Sarah. You'd never even know," he told her, and she could hear the strain in his voice, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. She felt a tear escape. "Look after my sister, okay? Just for a little while."

"You're asking too much," she managed weakly, trying to lift a hand to his face, and succeeding after a fair struggle. His eyes softened further as he stared back at her.

"Not yet, I'm not," he said gently, running a finger over her bottom lip. She frowned at him. "Another few moments and I will be."

"Don't leave me, Chuck," she pleaded quietly, forcing the words out, and he looked back at her, wounded. "Call Casey. He'll help. We'll get her back."

"I'm sorry, Sarah," he whispered. "I'm so, so sorry." He pressed his lips, only for a fleeting, wanting moment against hers, and then he pulled away, stroking her hair out of her face while her head fell back against the headrest and she struggled to stay awake. "Now I'll ask too much."

It was his last words that she woke with, half an hour later, etched into her memory, followed by faint gunshots from the middle of her dreamlessness. They'd send her rocketing towards the warehouse, pulling her gun from her ankle holster, barely managing to restrain herself long enough to send a call to Casey. She'd case the place in minutes, rushed, trying to find both Bartowskis in a flurry. She couldn't let him go just yet.

"Forgive me."

* * *

**R&R?**


	6. Incentive

**Thought it was a funny scenario...**

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"Where is he, Casey?"

Her eyes were fixed on the road in front of her, one hand on the wheel. Her other held her phone to her ear while her Porsche sped out of the Plaza parking lot. Chuck had left work early, and she was slightly concerned as to the reason. He hadn't seemed sick earlier, but he could have taken a turn throughout the day – with the physical routine they had him through, she was surprised he hadn't gotten ill within the first few weeks of meeting her.

"Where do you _think _he is, Walker?" Casey grumbled back on the other end of the line. "Where has he been every other night for the last two weeks – in his room, playing videogames."

Sarah sighed.

Chuck had made the recent change from first-person shooters to RPGs, and the change had turned into an obsession. He'd spent two weeks going through several of the Final Fantasy games and both Kingdom Hearts in rapid succession. If he spent this evening the same way as he had most others over the last two weeks, he'd wind up cancelling a third cover date on her and stay in playing the playstation all night.

…Again.

"This is ridiculous," Sarah stated dryly, heading towards Chuck's apartment building. "He's been stuck on these games for two weeks. It has to stop."

"You're only saying that because you're being ditched for a videogame," Casey grunted, sounding amused. Sarah flushed a light pink; glad that he couldn't see her right then. "And you're jealous. Of a _videogame_."

"No, I just think it's distracting him. It's stupid. No one should be fixed on them at his age. It's unreasonable, and I think we have to do something about it."

There was silence for a beat.

"…Yeah. Because you're being ditched for a videogame," Casey repeated slowly, and Sarah gritted her teeth. "Not to say I can really blame him. At least when he beats his games he has the self-satisfaction of knowing he _beat the game_. What's he got with you? Nothing."

"What are you talking about, Casey?"

"No incentive," the NSA agent replied, and she could hear him smirking over the phone.

"Wh-"

"No," he repeated slowly, dragging out the words, "incentive. Think about _that_, Walker."

Then he hung up on her. Bastard.

Sarah dropped her phone on the passenger seat moodily, turning her attention to driving towards Chuck's place, and she was soon parking in front of the apartment building. Two minutes later, she was crossing the courtyard, cursing her crappy job outfit, and throwing a satisfactorily dirty look Casey's way as he watched her from between his blinds.

His eyes narrowed at her, and she saw his lips move in an exaggerated fashion, mouthing 'no incentive' in her direction. She flipped him off, continuing to the Morgan door quickly.

She jumped through the window, only to see possibly the weirdest thing she'd witnessed in her life (and considering she'd spent so much time around the Buymore over the last few months, that was really saying something). The television in Chuck's room was on, depicting a character dressed in mainly black and yellow running up a very realistic snowy mountain pass, and this she'd expected.

What took her by surprise was the fact that the controller led to a shirtless man hanging upside down from the ceiling.

"…Chuck," she started slowly, frozen beside the window. He barely threw her a glance, quickly turning his attention back to the screen. He was going slightly red in the face from hanging upside down, she figured.

"Hey there Sarah," he replied cheerily, fiddling with the game controller for a moment longer until the sound of shattering glass erupted from the screen. Sarah saw him frown for a moment before making the odd response of doing a rep – pulling his chest up to meet his knees, controller still in both his hands. He dropped back down, returning his gaze to the screen as he put in a command for his attack party in the game.

Then he did another rep.

"…What are you doing?" Sarah asked cautiously, watching him repeat the workout movement after every turn he had in the battle in the game.

"Well," he started, sounding slightly breathless. She stared, wide-eyed, as he pulled his body up once more. "I mentioned to Casey a few weeks ago that I was thinking of getting –" he repeated the motion, cutting himself off, "- more in shape and learning some of your – agent doohickie so I'm not so completely defenceless on missions."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"And this relates how, exactly?" she asked, even as his on-screen battle finished and the game returned to the man running up a snowy mountain. Subsequently, Chuck stopped doing his reps.

"Well, Casey agreed," he replied slowly, still sounding slightly out of breath. " Said that as long as I –" the sound of shattering glass came from the television again, and she saw him pout, pulling his body up without any help from his hands once again. "Casey said that as long as I reached a reasonable amount of fitness on my own – he'd start teaching me defence. Or offence. One of the two. Maybe both. I don't remember."

"I'm still not seeing the relation," she said pensively, watching with awed interest as he completed yet another rep before her eyes.

"I figured, since it was about fitness," he explained to her slowly, still tapping away at his playstation controller. "The easiest person to ask was Awesome." Sarah moved to take a seat on the bed behind him, watching as he pulled himself up again. "He agreed to help and said something about needing 'maximum fitness and a high stamina when you meet the right girl'."

Sarah flushed bright red at the comment, watching the smooth movement of the muscles in his back as he did another rep.

"And what did you say to that, Chuck?" she asked quietly, trying not to be too distracted by the athleticism he was displaying.

"Well, he wasn't exactly wrong, so I didn't really say anything," he said absent-mindedly between reps. "He just didn't mean it in the same way I'm thinking of it."

_Funny, because that's how I'm thinking it_, Sarah thought, shaking her head suddenly when she realised where her mind was going. She couldn't keep her eyes off of his bare back, though.

"So, Awesome made me this really in-depth health and fitness plan," he grunted out, working on another rep. "And now I have a stricter diet and – a certain number of exercises I need to do each day. He makes me get up at six every morning to go for a run, did you know that? Pure torture."

"And how, exactly, does all of that wind up with you hanging shirtless from the roof in your bedroom in Awesome's anti-grav boots, playing videogames?"

"Sounds kind of ridiculous when you put it that way, huh," he commented after another rep. "Well, Awesome added the boots on the list of exercises, and I figured, since I'd have to do it either way, may as well make it more interesting to me. So with most of them, boots included, I play videogames at the same time, and take cues like action commands in battles as exercise time."

"Which explains the anti-grav boots and the videogame," Sarah said thoughtfully, watching him pause the game and drop his controller. "But why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Not that she was complaining or anything, just kind of curious.

"Well, if you'd ever tried exercising upside down, you'd know just how much gravity sucks," he replied loosely, and she watched him stretch out his arms slowly. "Because my shirt kept falling in my face, and I kind of figured 'hey, why impair my vision when I can just take the damn thing off anyway'."

"Perfectly plausible," she admitted, nodding to herself, even as she watched him do his last rep, unstrapping the boots and holding onto them tightly with his hands while he lowered his feet to the ground. Sarah stared open-mouthed at the display, more than just a little impressed.

"You okay, Sarah?" he asked, sounding slightly concerned, glancing in her direction as he moved to get a water bottle off of his desk. She jumped slightly at his words, feeling the heat of her face. She was blushing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, watching him acutely as he came to sit down next to her, rapidly downing more than half of his bottle of water. "Why?"

"You look a little…" he started slowly, leaning forward to look at her closely. She stared back at him steadily, struggling to keep her breathing even. "…flushed. Sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely," she replied, cursing her unintentional breathlessness. "Perfect." He was still looking at her thoughtfully, though, examining her, and her eyes flicked down to his lips. He smiled slightly, and she admired how soft they looked, wondering what it would feel like for him to kiss her right at that moment – not quite as desperate as her kiss at the docks had been, but maybe-

_God damn it, Walker, what is wrong with you today?_

She still found herself biting her bottom lip, shifting slightly with anticipation.

"I'm sorry about the last two weeks," Chuck told her quietly, bringing her attention back up to his eyes. He smiled gently at her, and she returned it hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning confusion. Chuck merely smiled.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed. It's why you came over, after all," he said warmly. "I shouldn't have been ignoring you. I don't think I really realised how much I was missing until Ellie sat me down last night and staged an intervention. She was right, too. So I wanted to say I was sorry, because I'm old enough that I shouldn't be getting that obsessed with videogames anymore, and I'm supposed to be a nice enough guy to _not _cancel on his girlfriend just for a game. It was immature, and selfish, and I didn't pay any heed to your feelings. I was kind of surprised you hadn't knocked some sense into me already. So I wanted to apologise."

She stared at him for a moment before she gave him a hesitant smile.

"That's okay, Chuck," she reassured him. "It's something that I kind of attribute to you. And I don't mind. I kind of see it as your way of getting away from all of this. Plus, it's kind of a part of your charm."

His smile turned into a grin.

"You think I'm charming?" he asked happily, and she froze for a moment, cursing the words making it past her lips. Then she nodded, hoping he wouldn't take it too much further. To her relief, and disappointment, he merely leaned forward, brushed his soft lips in a gentle kiss against her cheek, and then moved to fetch his game controller to continue playing his playstation.

_No incentive._

Her eyes narrowed as he turned his full attention back to the TV screen, and Casey's voice echoed snidely in her mind. Stupid videogame was stealing his attention away from her again.

She picked up the TV remote from his bedside table, restraining a growl, and turned the television off. Chuck blinked at the sudden blackness on the television screen before her started to turn back to her.

"Sarah, what are yo-"

She'd practically jumped on him before he could finish the question, and she barely registered the sound of his playstation controller dropping to the ground. She was far too intent on claiming his lips as hers and digging her fingernails into the skin of his bare back to care about anything other than pressing herself as close to him as physically possible and pushing him back on the bed.

Oh, she'd show him incentive.

* * *

**R&R plx?**


	7. You Know Me

**Put this anywhere.**

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**

_soil and six feet under  
__kept just like we were  
__before you knew you'd know me  
__and you know me_

Sometimes, when it all got too much, she wound up secluding herself for a day or two, taking all the frustration out on a punching bag, and dreaming of a million other places in the world.

He knew that, because he knew her, whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.

Other times, she broke down alone, letting everything wash over her in waves, in a way that left her so worn out that she could face the world the next day through tired eyes, and pretend like nothing had happened.

He knew that too, but she couldn't have been expected to even think he would.

On the very, _very _rare occasion, when it was far too much to work on alone, or far too little to feel awkward about, Sarah would actually talk to him about it. Being Chuck, he'd let her talk it through, help her get past it, and (this was the part she appreciated the most) go on treating her exactly the same way he always had – no difference in opinion would occur.

When it all got too much for him, in past times, it hadn't resulted well (Sarah thought of the Sandwich girl as the ideal bloody example – Lou had damned sure ruined everything just in the one instance she'd stolen away Chuck's attention). On the other hand, Chuck was more open to talking out his problems than she was, and if she got more used to it, all those problems could be avoided.

But this was her problem.

They'd only just and very barely scraped out of their last mission, and even then it wasn't without wounds. She'd been slightly banged up from some of the hand-to-hand combat in which she and Casey had to partake against their marks. But Chuck had come off worst out of the three of them, because the one time that he'd actually stayed in the car, he'd been shot.

They'd called in a CIA doctor, and he'd been stitched up within the hour. Ellie never found out. He'd gotten back on his feet the next day – something no one expected, nor advised. But he'd insisted – he had things to do, and people he wouldn't disappoint.

It scared her, because he'd gotten up the very next day and faced the world with a smile and an easy 'nah, it didn't hurt as much as I'd expected', as if getting shot was absolutely nothing.

It pushed her over the edge, because he'd almost died.

So, for the past two days, Sarah Walker had been suffering in silence, as she liked to do – stressed out, tense, steadily losing her mind, and still shaken up. And Chuck, because he was Chuck, and he knew her perhaps a little better than she knew herself, had noticed.

There they were, perched on his windowsill, side by side, watching another one of Ellie's parties play out in the courtyard (neither of them actually knew what the party was for this time – probably just because Ellie and Devon thought it seemed like a good idea at the time). They both had a drink in hand, and neither had so far spoken.

But she was still all tensed up, and Chuck just couldn't have that.

The change in music gave him the opportune moment to ease the stress. He put his bottle down on the ground beside him, got to his feet, and turned to offer Sarah his hand.

"Dance with me," he said simply, and she looked up at him slowly. He would've sworn she was entirely blank if he couldn't read her eyes so well – apprehensive and tense, with a small side of miserable. He gave her a small, lopsided smile, and she took the encouragement after another mouthful of alcohol, putting her hand gently into his and getting to her feet.

He didn't bother with leading her over to the fountain, where some other couples were taking liberties with the slow dance. He merely took her a step away from the windowsill, wrapped his arms around her waist, held her close, and moved slowly on the spot when her arms had circled his neck.

"We don't have to dance for Ellie," she told him quietly, but he smiled slightly as her arms tightened ever so slightly around his neck and her head dropped to rest, barely, on his shoulder. "She wouldn't mind. We're more than convincing."

"This isn't for Ellie," he replied gently. "This is for me."

He heard her hum slightly, pulling him that little bit closer while they swayed and burrowing her head into his shoulder. She was still too tense, though.

"Talk to me," he whispered. She responded with a small non-compliant noise, and little else, so he rubbed her back gently. He could feel her relax a little beneath his touch. "You're all shook up, Sarah. Talk to me."

She nuzzled his neck slightly before speaking.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, and he let out what could easily be considered a tired laugh. One of her hands retreated momentarily from around his neck, moving quickly to the bottom of his shirt and bypassing the fabric quickly. Her fingers brushed over the soft bandages on his chest, and the two of them parted the barest amount. He looked down to her while she stared at his shirt, troubled.

"It aches a little," he told her. "But I'm fine."

He moved a hand to her chin, gently guiding her gaze back up to his. Her stormy blue eyes met his warm brown ones, searching.

"You're fine," she repeated quietly, more to reassure herself than anything else. He nodded slightly, brushing her hair behind her ear soothingly.

"And I'm right here," he continued, trying to put her at ease. "With you."

"With me," she said. Her hand slid back out from beneath his shirt after another moment, and she closed her eyes. "You're with me," she breathed again. He slid his arms around her waist again, pulling her against him tightly and trying to keep her warm. She seemed to sink into him, almost all of the rest of the tension seeping out of her body. Her arms circled his neck again, and they started to dance slowly once more.

"We had a close call, Sarah, and we didn't see it coming," he whispered into her ear. She shifted slightly, losing herself to his warmth and his reassuring presence. "But it was _just _a close call. Relax."

"I almost lost you, Chuck."

He felt her shake in his arms, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm right here, Sarah," he whispered, and he felt her fingers twisting into the back of his shirt, holding him as tight and as close as she could, refusing to let him go. She barely nodded, repeating it to herself for the reassurance. He kissed her forehead gently.

"You're right here."

_blooming up from the ground  
__three rounds and a sound  
__like whispering you know me  
__you know me_

_

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**R&R?**_  
_


	8. Stupidity

**Dude, I wrote this ages ago. And I totally bombed my yearly exams this week. Guh.**

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This was insane.

She was Sarah Walker, super spy - an expert marksman, a deep cover operative, a lethal weapon, and remarkably flexible. She'd been to hundreds of places all over the world, killed countless baddies (stopped counting around the fifties mark, anyway), and her record – oh, she was one of the best they had. She took dangerous missions, put her life on the line, utilised her fantastic skills every day in matters of national security and intelligence. So where was the insanity in that?

She was working in a _hotdog store_.

The best explanation for that was that General Beckman was a sadist, and _really _didn't like the CIA. The uptight demon of a woman had Sarah dressed up in a demeaning uniform, suffering all sorts of sexual harassment from hormonal teenage boys on a daily basis. And, of course, she was told to play the good worker and put on a smile.

Not that all things about the job were bad – her lunch breaks made the highlight of her day. Not everyone had a cover-but-not-really boyfriend working across the parking lot who came to visit on their lunch breaks with their heart-melting smile. Speaking of which, it was about that time of the day again.

And, right on cue, the door to the Weinerlicious (horrible, horrible store) opened, and Sarah felt her first genuine smile of the day playing on her lips.

"Not a customer, you can cut the act."

…And all hopes and happy thoughts were dashed almost as quickly as they'd come. That wasn't Chuck's voice, it was Casey's, and when the big man came to visit during work hours (or, truth be told, any hours) it normally meant bad things.

"Casey?" she asked, fixing her gaze on him. She leant against the counter, one hand under her chin, examining the NSA agent critically. He had that awfully smug look on his face that said he wasn't bringing her news of trouble; he was going to cause it. She decided to let him try his best. "What've you got for me this week?"

"Don't sound so expectant, Walker, it makes me think I'm losing my touch," he replied dryly, his cruel smile fading for a moment. Then it was back in full force when he continued with a deceptively sweet tone. "I just thought I'd spend my precious time informing you that _Chuckles_ will be late for your _lunch date_. He's a little preoccupied with that brunette from Monday."

Casey grinned; awfully pleased with himself when Sarah had the immediate 'this is _war_!' reaction he'd been looking for. Her brow furrowed and she stood up straight before jumping over the counter and making for the door.

He was baiting her, clearly, but Sarah Walker was having one of those horridly _normal_ moments when she forgot all about the fact that she was a CIA agent, working on an assignment for the government, and her partner was a big, surly NSA agent who liked to push her buttons just to see her reactions. At that moment in time, she was, first and foremost, Chuck Bartowski's _girlfriend_,and to hell with it if she was expected to just put up with some two-bit Californian girl chatting up her lover.

The brunette girl Casey was talking about, she remembered as they crossed the parking lot, had walked into the Buymore on the Monday of that week with a busted laptop. Chuck, being his charming and oblivious self, had caught the woman's attention, and she'd asked for his help specifically on fixing her computer – a task that was, for the first time in some time, taking him the most of the week.

The woman had found it in herself to check up on Chuck every day since, and had returned to the Buymore on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and, apparently, now Friday as well.

Casey had gotten suspicious of the woman's interested behaviour by the Wednesday, and run a background check on her (Chuck had her name on the Buymore form). Unfortunately, she'd turned out to be merely a pretty twenty-six year old psychology major with a thing for cute, nerdy boys. Casey had left her be, not seeing a problem.

Stupid Casey.

Sarah growled to herself, entering the Buymore and looking around quickly. Morgan was, once again, being subjected to working in the Hole, while Jeff and Lester walked around suspiciously with a digital camera. Anna was typing away on a laptop on one side of the Nerd Herd desk, and it was opposite the Asian woman that she spotted Chuck and the mystery girl.

"Brunettes," Sarah grumbled darkly, hearing Casey chuckle beside her. He was excited, and not subtly so. "_Why_ is it _always_ brunettes?"

The woman was taller than Lou, shorter than Sarah, and, unfortunately, stunningly beautiful. Even as Sarah watched, catching their conversation, the woman leaned towards Chuck, hand sliding slightly closer to him on the counter and ignoring the silver laptop beside them. There was an almost predatory look in her gaze and Sarah narrowed her eyes, quickening her approach.

Stupid brunette.

"-so I've fixed the hard drive," Chuck was saying, completely oblivious to the brunette woman's intentions. "Ran some scans, and you had a lot of spyware and three viruses on there. The general intention of virus protection on computers is that you run scans frequently to keep the computer clean. You need to keep doing that. Apart from that, your laptop's in perfect condition."

Sarah couldn't help but smile inwardly to herself – Chuck was off on one of his computer rants, completely oblivious to the fact that the brunette had him in her sights. While this made her smile, it also pissed her off – Chuck's naivety meant he had no idea what the woman actually wanted from him, but it also meant that he hadn't warned her off trying to get his attention.

Stupid Chuck.

"Right, I'll keep that in mind, _Chuck_," the brunette girl was replying, and Sarah pasted on a smile even though she was fuming at how the woman had let her voice catch on his name. That was her thing. "I was thinking, since you went through so much trouble to fix my computer, that maybe, if you're free on Sunday, we could-"

"Hey there, stranger," Sarah called simply, her voice low, taking her cue to cut in. She reached the two of them with perfect timing, noticing that Casey had dropped back by the shelves to watch.

Chuck turned around quickly at her greeting, blinking once in surprise before his eyes lit up and he gave her a brilliant smile. Sarah felt an immense amount of satisfaction at his grin – the brunette had been trying to chat him up for at least ten minutes with next to no real reaction, and all she'd had to do was say 'hi' for him to give her his trademark makes-you-weak-in-the-knees grin.

"Sarah!" he replied happily, then he paused for a moment, glancing at his watch. "I'm late for lunch, aren't I?" he asked as she reached his side. "I'm so, _so _sorry, I didn't mean to – well, I had a customer, and was just wrapping up a-"

She rolled her eyes and cut him off before he could fall further into his rambling state, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to her level so she could kiss him. He froze in surprise for a moment before smiling against her lips and putting his arms around her waist.

Neither of them really noticed Casey taking the brunette away and finishing up her order and forms with a smirk, although the absence of the brunette was the first thing Sarah registered when their kiss ended.

"What's the occasion, Sarah?" Chuck asked after a few moments, sounding slightly breathless – it wasn't every day he got to indulge in the pleasures of kissing Sarah Walker, after all. Sarah smiled to herself, amazed at the effect she had on him. Then his lips brushed against her neck, and she forgot what was going on for a moment. He could always do the same things to her, after all.

"Just a little…" she started slowly, contentedly, sliding her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. "…Cover maintenance…"

He made a small noise in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Cover maintenance my left foot," he said dryly. "I think you just wanted to remind me _exactly _where my best interests lie. Kind of like… _jealousy_."

She hummed slightly, pulling away just far enough to look him in the eye. "And where are your best interests, _Chuck_?" she asked, ignoring the second part of his statement and smiling at the way her voice stuck on his name. "The pretty brunette woman whose computer you fixed?" He quirked an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

"Nah," he told her simply. "I actually kind of have a thing for badass blonde ninja girls, _Sarah_."

Her eyes lit up and she grinned at the response, but it was the way his voice stuck on her name that sent a delightful shiver running down her spine. Then she was pressing her lips back against his, fingers twisting furiously through his hair, pulling him closer, and indulging in the guilty pleasure she'd denied herself for far too long.

Stupid Sarah.

* * *

**R&R?**


	9. Possessive

**Wherever you can see it.**

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**

"Working with you has been a real experience. Again."

Casey and Sarah exchanged a glance at the woman's words. Casey frowned, completely unimpressed, and Sarah smiled slightly. Carina just watched the quick interaction with a small smirk and judging eyes. Chuck watched this all with a small smile – satisfied that the mission had ended as planned.

In short, Carina had breezed back into town, trying to cause trouble, on a mission to 'retrieve' vital intelligence from a very rich man with very big bodyguards. Therein, she'd enlisted the help of Team Chuck, and the three of them had chipped in.

The whole thing hadn't gone off without a hitch, as per say, but it had ended fairly well. And on the upside, during the course of the mission, there hadn't been any major Chuck-Sarah trust issues, Carina didn't call up a remote controlled jet ski and disappear into the distance, and John Casey managed to keep his pants on.

"I'd say it was a pleasure, but I'd be lying through my teeth," Casey replied to the DEA agent. Then he turned on his heel in the courtyard and started towards his apartment.

"You're only sour because you had to keep your pants on this time," Carina called, and he merely growled at the statement, disappearing into his apartment. "Sarah. Saved my ass again."

"Let's just say you owe me one and leave it at that," Sarah replied with a smile, reaching out to shake the agent's hand quickly. That was their farewell over, and Carina turned her gaze to Chuck.

"Offer's still open, Chuckie," she told him, her gaze and her voice turning sultry, and Chuck shifted nervously beneath her gaze, letting out an awkward laugh.

"Uh… Sorry, but I'm going to have to turn you down again," he stuttered out, and the woman pouted. "Still flattered, but still very, very intimidated." He held out his hand. "But, yeah, definitely been an experience working with you again."

She pouted, shaking his hand somewhat reluctantly, and Sarah's eyes narrowed at the two of them.

"Are you _sure_? Because really, that offer still stands for as long as…" she trailed off suggestively, eyes trailing up and down his body slowly, but he shook his head.

"No," he replied simply. "Goodbye Carina."

Then he turned around and went back to his apartment, albeit a little less stiffly than Casey had not even five minutes beforehand. Carina pouted disappointedly, looking after him with extremely unimpressed eyes. Sarah stared at her accusingly for a moment before the woman spoke to herself.

"Why does he keep saying no? That man has the resistance of a titanium reinforced wall. I'm really not _that _intimidating," she growled to herself. "Either that or he's gay."

"Trust me when I tell you this," Sarah said stiffly, and Carina gave her an appraising stare and a small smirk. "Chuck is _definitely_ not gay. He's just not into you."

"I bet you wish he was into you," Carina speculated smugly, and Sarah pursed her lips at the tone and the innuendo. "I could always ask for a few days off," she commented, more to herself than Sarah, and her eyes drifted thoughtfully to Chuck's front door. She licked her lips. "Even _that _man of steel would have to fall to my charms given a few days and some _serious _work."

Sarah barely refrained from growling.

"Good_bye_, Carina," she said, turning and following Chuck, closing his apartment door behind her and leaving the DEA agent in the courtyard alone. She found Chuck in the living room, sitting on one end of the couch, eyes on the television, while his sister sat on one of the armchairs in her scrubs. They both threw Sarah a small smile as she entered the room, before Ellie turned back to watch the television.

Chuck's eyes stayed on her, though, silently asking what was wrong – she knew she was visibly far tenser than normal. She frowned, walking over to him, and surprised him by sitting directly in his lap, putting her arms around his neck. He gave her a slightly confused look, lifting his arms cautiously to her back. They normally avoided positions like this, even around Ellie.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked gently, and she hummed slightly, playing with his hair moodily. He gave her an odd look at the behaviour, waiting for her to break the silence with a reply.

"…When did Carina starts asking you to…?" she trailed off, frowning, and he gave her a small smile, understanding the situation a little more.

"Last time she was here," he replied simply. "I said no. I thought it'd be the end of it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly, sounding slightly frustrated. "I would've told her to knock it off, or find someone else to hit on. She can't have you." Sarah paused, cutting herself off, and swallowed tensely, as if suddenly realising the position she'd put them both in. "You're mine," she said quietly, tense and slightly reluctant, knowing she wasn't supposed to be saying it. "…You know that, right?"

Chuck nodded, giving her a small smile, and he kissed her on the cheek, holding her a little tighter until she relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder and continuing to play with his hair. They both smiled slightly at the sound of Ellie struggling to refrain from her happy squeal off to their left.

"Well, I have a shift, so I'll be leaving you two alone now," she said after another few moments, and both Chuck and Sarah threw her a smile and a small goodbye before she left.

Sarah turned back to Chuck when the door closed, only to be met with a small smirk from the man, and she narrowed her eyes at him slightly, shifting on his lap but making no move to vacate her spot.

"You look good in green, Miss Walker," he commented gently, and she gave him a half-hearted glare, not willing to let him laugh at the circumstances just yet.

"Shut up," she grumbled.

He just smiled, rolled his eyes, and kissed her.

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**R&R?**


	10. Unconventional

**Just one of those things.**

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He had that look on his face again.

The one he got whenever he looked at Ellie and Devon for too long and started to think about what he wanted in a relationship. Sarah knew that look. It took his mind away from her for a couple of hours every few weeks. Sometimes it wound up with the both of them falling into another one of their epic funks because they weren't like that, and they couldn't be.

They were both a little jealous of all the normally functioning relationships around them. All of the little public displays of affection, and the not-so-public ones, and the simple admittance of something more that the two of them couldn't have. So, they couldn't help but be a bit envious of it.

It still made Sarah sad when he got that look, though, because she knew he was the kind of guy who really deserved to have the real thing. And she was keeping it from him, she knew. But it had to stay that way until he got the Intersect out of his head, so she needed to get those thoughts out of his head before he let them really get to him.

With that in mind, she leaned a little closer to him on the couch, mindful of Ellie and Devon on his other side, and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. He turned away from the television, and the movie on it, focusing his eyes curiously on her.

"I'm tired," she told him gently, whispering, and he gave her a small smile. "Come to bed."

He nodded, and she could tell he was just as tired as she was. She closed her eyes and smiled when he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and then the two of them got to their feet, starting back off to his room after saying a quiet goodnight to Ellie and Devon.

Within five minutes they were both under covers in his dark room, silent and waiting for sleep. After a few minutes, Sarah propped herself up on one arm, looking at him in the dark.

"Chuck?" she asked quietly, and he shifted slightly, showing her he was still fully awake and paying attention. "Are you okay?"

She heard him sigh, and his hand found one of hers. "I'm fine," he told her softly, giving her fingers a slight squeeze after they'd intertwined. She relaxed a bit at the contact, letting out all the tension in a low sigh. Then she moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest with their hands clasped in front of her, even as his other arm circled around her back to hold her.

"I know we aren't the most conventional couple," she whispered gently, squeezing his fingers and snuggling into his side. She was amazed at how warm he made her feel, how comfortable. "But you know I still…"

She cut herself off tensely, not knowing how to finish her statement – 'feel like it's real', 'want more', '_love you_'. All of those and more would work, but she couldn't say them. It was his fingers tracing patterns on her back that made her realise she didn't have to. She shifted to look in his eyes, and he merely nodded and gave her a small smile through the darkness. She could see in his eyes that he knew what she meant.

"I know," he told her softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This was enough.

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**R&R?**


	11. Cliches And A Glass Of Scotch

**I did promise a Casey fic for someone, didn't I?**

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They were at it again.

Trading glances like love struck teenagers, transferring heat with a well-placed brush of their fingertips, and just doing their general fuzzy thing. They were in love, quite clearly, and it was kind of annoying to see.

Those two were constantly dancing around the subject, and John Casey had enough.

Consequently, he'd cornered Walker after their mission that afternoon, announced he'd be turning the surveillance in Chuck's room off for the night so she could do whatever she wanted so long as her and Chuck quit all the angst, and headed stiffly back home. Now, four hours later, he stood up and walked to his front window, looking out into the courtyard while his _two_ partners stumbled into the courtyard, checking he'd gotten his message across.

His eyes narrowed as he watched them come to a halt in the dark courtyard, Walker spinning Chuck around to face her for a properly serious conversation. The blonde's lips mouthed all the right words, and the dark-haired man let a smile grow.

And when those sickeningly cliché three words were spoken, there was a flurry of motion between the two opposite factors, and then lips were on lips and hands were in hair, and Casey was turning away from the window with a grunt.

They'd still be horribly in love, but at least all the angst would be gone.

He smiled slightly to himself after a moment – he remembered how it felt to be in love. He'd traded kisses and light touches, and clichéd words before. He'd felt warm at the touch of someone he'd considered his better half. And that thought made him ache a bit, because truly, he kind of missed that.

He shook himself slightly.

That life – that wasn't for him. Those parts of living had been in forfeit for years. He'd given it up so others – like the suckers out in the courtyard, his partners, his _friends_ – could _have _that. And that was all for the best, he supposed. Although, he'd always kind of wish...

But no. No more thinking about things he didn't have. He needed a bottle of scotch.

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**R&R?**


	12. Statistics

**This was originally going to be a standalone oneshot, but it was shelved when it wasn't finished. Some months later, it came out of rehab and appeared here, in the HJ segment of the chasingfireflies show. **

**Please reserve judgement until you've read a better piece and this chapter is behind closed doors. It's been recklessly abused by the author and has very low self-esteem.**

**Thank you.**

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"The mission is information extraction, fairly basic for your skill, Agent Walker," Beckman explained quickly.

The three of the team were standing in front of Casey's television, getting a briefing for a mission later that evening. Long story short – some big, interesting crime lord was in town for the night, and the bosses wanted to know what he was doing. So, of course, it would fall to Team Bartowski to retrieve that information.

They gave the information for the mark, what, exactly, needed to be extracted from him, and where to catch the guy at seven, and then Beckman cut the connection and left the team to plan. Casey was fairly blunt on the topic.

"You know the drill – catch him at his dinner this evening, buy him a few drinks, slip him your common truth serum, and you'll be back to your hotel room by one," the big man said quickly, grinning at Sarah, who stared blankly back at him. "Who knows, you'll probably even find it fun. You don't get much action anymore, am I right?"

Sarah pursed her lips coldly at the NSA agent while Chuck looked between them, momentarily confused.

"Not getting an…" he trailed off thoughtfully for a moment, a blank look crossing his face. "Oh. Never mind." Casey and his sexual innuendo. "I'd normally say something about how crude you are, Casey, but I'm thinking it's rarely had effect before and that wouldn't be changing now."

The big man grunted out a laugh.

"Oh, he finally learns something about how things work," he commented dryly. "But it's true anyway. She doesn't. And her profile statistics for these jobs are excellent. Always gets what she wants from the mark."

Chuck's face adopted a somewhat distasteful expression. "I'm sure she does," he commented dryly, and Sarah jerked her head around to face him, opening her mouth to retort to that, or defend herself from Casey. Chuck continued before she could. "Yeah… pretty sure you two can do this one alone. Need of the intersect wasn't mentioned. See you tomorrow."

He turned on his heel and left Casey's apartment without another word, the door closing a little more forcefully than normal. The two agents exchanged a look before Casey sneered.

"Little twerp doesn't like the idea of you doing this kind of job, apparently," he commented with a snicker. "Or your past record. Probably jealous because he doesn't get any action either. Well, anyway, I'll get the surveillance for this one, and you can go give the intersect a little pep talk before you go man hunting. He's right. He can stay home for this one. I'd probably kill him from annoyance if he came anyway."

Sarah rolled her eyes, and turned to follow Chuck out of the apartment, finding it in herself to be just as crude as Casey and flip the man the bird when he called out "be ready for your date by six!" to her leaving form. Unlike Chuck, she closed the door calmly, before heading over to his apartment and knocking on the door.

She frowned as she realised she was doing exactly what Casey had said she would, and was about to turn around and leave just because of that when the door was flung open by Morgan, who slid past her quickly and started running through the courtyard with a loud 'woop'. The next thing she knew, Chuck had slipped past her with a baseball bat in his hand and fury wretched into his features.

"Get back here you little rat!" he yelled out after Morgan, following quickly in the little bearded man's footsteps. "You ruin that disk and I'll ruin your face!"

She turned on the spot to watch the two of them in sheer surprise, only to have Ellie come and stand beside her after a few seconds and sigh audibly.

"I told him not to touch Chuck's game, but no," she said. "It's Morgan. What made me think he'd listen?"

"This is all over a game?" Sarah asked incredulously. Ellie nodded.

"Chuck's game, of course."

"Any one in particular that would encourage this reaction?" Sarah asked curiously, showing some slight worry as Morgan took to throwing chairs at Chuck over his shoulder with his spare hand. Evidently, Chuck's batting skills were well above par, as the steel bat kept flicking up to deflect the chairs, sometimes hitting them with enough force to send them flying several metres.

"Oh, wow, you don't know?" Ellie asked mysteriously. Sarah gave her a questioning look. "Well, Chuck's spent some of his time over the last couple of years working on programming and other… computer stuff – not my general area of expertise, you know," she explained quickly. "So he started writing his own game. I didn't think he'd finished it, but apparently, if it's down on a disk, he has."

"So, when you say 'Chuck's game', you mean…"

"That Chuck actually designed the whole thing himself, yeah," she said offhandedly. "I don't think anyone's actually seen what it is besides him. But apparently, Morgan has it now. I _told_ him to lock his window, but _no_…"

"…Where'd Chuck get the baseball bat from?" Sarah asked slowly, watching as Chuck seemed to get closer to his mark, eyes narrowing, fist gripping the bat tighter.

"Devon."

"He looks like he knows how to use it…"

"Oh, yeah, he really does," Ellie commented proudly, a smile crossing her features. "Well, come inside. We'll have some coffee and wait for him to get his game back. Not even _I _can stand to see what happens to Morgan now."

Sarah blinked twice, then turned around, following Ellie inside and shaking her head slightly at the incredulity of what she'd just seen. There was something remarkably appealing about that determined, forceful, and yet graceful Chuck. She shook the thought out of her head, but she couldn't stop her smile when she heard him yelling at Morgan.

"Either you hand it back, or I'll kick your ass, Morgan!"

It was three minutes and one sip of a just-brewed coffee later that the door opened again and slammed, and Chuck moved to stand in the living room, staring heatedly at the couch with a silver baseball bat in one hand and a CD case in the other. Ellie, Devon, and Sarah all looked up at him for a moment from their post near the kitchen door having only just gotten their coffee, and Sarah couldn't help shifting on the spot when she saw the fury in his gaze. Ellie frowned slightly at her brother's heavy breathing and the whiteness of his knuckles from his grip around the bat.

"C'mon bro," Devon called calmly, and Chuck didn't even turn to look at him. "Try not to murder the couch. What did it ever do to you?"

They all saw Chuck close his eyes, breathing in deeply, and then his grip slackened on the bat, allowing it to clatter to the ground loudly. Two seconds later, he'd turned and walked to his room, disappearing from sight. There was a barely audible sound of the door to his room closing, and Sarah was slightly surprised that he'd closed it so calmly when he'd appeared so angry.

"Uh oh…" Ellie said eventually, her tone low and drawn out. "I don't think I've seen him this angry since he found out about the whole 'Jill-Bryce' thing. That can't be good."

Sarah winced, downing her coffee and putting the cup back in the kitchen before going after Chuck.

"Sure you want to do that, Sarah?" Ellie asked uncertainly when Sarah moved past her. She gulped slightly.

"Yeah," she replied, continuing on her way. Her face reflected Ellie's uncertainty though, and she found herself muttering to herself. "Statistics say I complete ninety-eight percent of missions flawlessly. They're normally harder than this."

Lie.

She knew that even a super spy wasn't equipped to deal with a furious, extremely attractive, Chuck Bartowski. Especially not a super spy currently going by the name of Sarah Walker.

She knocked twice on his bedroom door before making her way in, closing it with a click behind her. The disk was on his desk, probably thrown there, and he was face down on the bed, arms splayed out haphazardly.

"…Chuck?"

He grumbled unintelligibly into the mattress, and she moved to sit down on the very edge of his bed. She frowned when he didn't move to look at her.

"Chuck," she started again, moving one hand to his arm. She frowned when he moved it out of her grip. "We need to talk."

He turned his head to the side slightly, staring towards the wall so his voice was clear enough for her.

"I get it, Sarah," he said flatly. She twisted on the spot to stare at him, concerned by his tone. "Don't worry about me. It's just another job. It doesn't mean anything. You're just pretending so you can get what the government needs."

She frowned slightly. He lifted a hand to the side of his head and pulled at his hair roughly in the silence that followed. Her eyes narrowed at the display, and he continued as if he'd seen the searching gaze.

"The only reason it means a thing is because I'm just like that guy," he told her dryly. She scrunched her eyes closed and gritted her teeth, wishing upon all else that he hadn't brought up this topic of conversation. She wasn't ready for that talk – never had been, never would be – and that was why it constantly ended in tears for the two of them.

"Chuck, you're not-"

"Yeah, I am," he replied, cutting her off grimly. "Always have been, Sarah. I'm just another job. The only difference between me and this guy tonight is that he's dealt with in a few hours – you can get him drunk, slip him some pentothal, and knock him out before anything happens. _I'm_ making you stay in the one place for months, and you had to make me fall for you along the way. Pentothal and alcohol just don't work for me."

"…I didn't have to make you fall for me," she said softly, and she didn't know what drove the words past her lips. He laughed humourlessly.

"I did anyway."

She reached out a hand again, putting it on his shoulder, trying valiantly to ignore the slight burning behind her eyes. This time he didn't move away from her. He seemed beyond resisting - defeated, even. All he could manage was a small plea in a weak voice.

"Please don't," he said. "You know it means more to me than it does to you."

"No," she breathed out lightly, trying desperately to stop the constriction in her throat from affecting her voice. "Chuck, the intel isn't… that's not the only reason I'm here."

"You don't have to explain, you know," he replied softly. "I already know. Like Casey said – it's your record. Your success rates are off the charts. Don't worry about it, you won't fail the assignment. I'm fine with it. Even if I'm only a statistic to you."

"You're not just a st-"

"Who are you kidding?" he grumbled. Sarah froze. "You've got an almost perfect record, and that's all you need. And there's no point in continuing the matter, let alone the thought, in my mind, because either way, once upon a time you gave your heart to Bryce Larkin for safekeeping, and you never got it back."

"Chuck, you're not just another addition to my file," she persisted, and he laughed to himself, moving to sit up. He barely even looked her way before moving to his desk and sitting down in front of his computer, booting it up quickly.

"You should go," he said simply. Sarah stared at him stiffly, frozen.

"…What?" she asked, feeling the catch in the back of her throat. The words had a similar effect to the time he'd dumped her for the sandwich girl. She could barely manage to speak.

"You should go," he repeated. His tone was tense, but the words seemed to flow from his lips effortlessly. "You have a date to get ready for," he reminded her stonily. "Casey won't be happy if you're late."

"Chuck…" she trailed off hopelessly. He'd never before met her so openly with tones and thoughts like this, and it struck her so horribly off-course that she didn't know what to do. At the same time, she realised that his suggestion wasn't merely a half-baked excuse to get her to leave him alone – she really did need to go if she was going to do the mission on time.

At the same time, she was reluctant to leave Chuck alone in such a mood, with the topic unsettled. If she had any experience with talking about her feelings, the matter would have been resolved the second she'd walked into the room.

She sucked in a deep breath, getting up from the bed and moving to stand beside him at the desk.

"Will you wait for me to get back, Chuck?" she asked, and he clicked away at the mouse of his computer for several seconds before replying.

"Fine."

She raised a hand briefly, intending to touch his shoulder, or tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, or turn his face her way so she could see his warm brown eyes – anything. But she hesitated, and clasped it in front of her instead, not sure if physical contact was in any way a good idea at that moment.

"I'll try not to take too long," she offered softly, hoping to spur some kind of reaction from the man. He didn't show any sign of even having heard her, keeping his eyes on the screen and opening several windows, leaving the agent significantly disappointed.

She waited for an answer for a minute longer before accepting that he wasn't going to speak with her again. With a strained sigh, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her and hoping that they could sort it out after the mission.

She didn't know that he glanced at the door moments after she left, moved to grab a jacket from his closet, and left through the Morgan door mere minutes later.

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**R&R plx? **


	13. Family Matters

**I thought that the idea was kind of cute…? **

**Place wherever you want, season two. **

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It was moments like this that reminded her why she'd fallen in love with him.

He'd put her to bed at nine – she'd been wiped after two days of constant mission-work and almost fallen asleep on the couch in his apartment mid-conversation with Morgan. So Chuck had put in a few words with the bearded man, and Morgan had complied to leave with an easy smile.

But Sarah had woken at three in the morning in his room to an empty bed, still tired, still heavy, and fairly certain that she'd fallen asleep with Chuck occupying the space beside her. Some time since she'd fallen asleep, she'd turned on her side and moved over to his side of the bed, probably looking for human heat – or maybe just looking for him. But with Chuck's vacancy, she'd merely found herself breathing in his scent from his pillow.

So with a low, tired grumble, she turned back over and got groggily out of bed. She felt too tired, and far too heavy for it, but she still needed a few more hours of good sleep, and she wouldn't get that if he weren't right beside her. So that in mind, she opened the door to his room almost silently and wandered tiredly out towards the living room and it's dim lighting.

She stopped just short of entering the room, listening to Chuck's gentle voice and peering curiously around the corner.

"Shh, El," he was saying, trying to comfort his sister. Sarah's eyes softened, seeing him in front of the breakfast bar, holding his older sister in his arms while she cried, still in her scrubs. "It's okay, Ellie. It's going to be okay."

"It's not," Ellie contradicted through quiet sobs, holding on to her brother. "It's not, Chuck. She was my friend. I'm not supposed to be friends with patients, but I…" she choked off for a moment, clutching the back of her brother's shirt harder. Chuck merely lifted a hand to stroke through his sister's hair, trying to calm her down. "She was my friend, and I failed her. I watched her die, Chuck. Right in front of me. She was my friend, and I couldn't save her."

Sarah felt herself relax slightly, watching the two siblings sadly. Chuck had gotten up at three in the morning to comfort his sister, who'd apparently had a treatment-gone-wrong. She felt a slight moment of jealousy for the elder Bartowski – she could let out all of the pent up feelings after a bad day so easily, and interact so much more closely, so easily, with her younger brother than Sarah could – but she quenched it as soon as it came.

"Ellie," she heard Chuck soothe quietly. "You can only ever do your best, and you do every day, El. You save lives. You've dedicated your life to it. And this one time, you couldn't save someone. But it's not your fault, Ellie. Nothing could be done, Devon told me. It's more than just unfortunate that someone – a good person – died today, Ellie, but it's _not your fault_. You can't save everyone."

Sarah smiled sadly at the scene, understanding somewhat how the woman was feeling. It was similar to some of the rough spots from her own career. Still tired, she lifted a hand to the wall to steady herself, continuing to watch the two siblings, hoping to understand the dynamics of their relationship a little bit more.

She'd never seen anyone before as close as the Bartowski siblings.

"What do I do, Chuck?" Ellie was asking, still crying into his shirt, and Sarah saw him sigh slightly, holding his sister a little closer, hoping to make her feel a little better. "She died today. I won't be able to go back for another shift without thinking about her, and her face, and her empty hospital bed. How do I do that?"

"You go to bed tonight, lie down beside your fiancé, and try to think about how lucky you are to have somebody who loves you and understands you in your life," Sarah heard him say, and the words made her feel a little sad. "And I know it hurts, El, but you get up tomorrow, and you go back to work, and you think about this friend of yours. You don't let the ghosts stop you from doing your job, Ellie, you let them help you. Their faces shouldn't haunt you, they should remind you what you're fighting for."

"What's that?"

"Good people," he told her softly. "Good people and their lives. And you'll save other good people, because they all deserve the life that your friend didn't get to have. So you let her memory help you, Ellie. And at the end of the day, you leave all the ghosts and all the work in the hospital with Doctor Bartowski and come home to just be Ellie for a little while."

Sarah jumped slightly when she felt a tap on her shoulder, turning quickly to see Devon behind her, looking like he'd just woken up himself. He gave her a small smile, which she hesitantly returned. Then he gestured out to Chuck and Ellie.

"He's amazing, isn't he?" Devon whispered to her, almost silently while Chuck continued to console his sister. Sarah returned her gaze to the two brunettes, a small tired smile returning to her face. She nodded, just barely.

"Yeah," she murmured. "He is."

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**R&R?**


	14. ExLovers Made Friends

**Because haven't you ever wondered?**

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"Hey Chuck, haven't seen you in here in a while."

Chuck raised a hand to scratch the back of his head with a slightly awkward smile. He gave the short girl a small smile.

"Can't have been that long. I distinctly remember the taste of your fantastic sandwiches," he said with an easier smile. "Only two weeks at most. Not too long at all."

"Ah, yes, but the time without you here is achingly boring," Lou told him, and he grinned at the somewhat joking tone in her voice, moving to sit down at one of the small tables in the deli and looking at her over the counter. "Same as usual, Chuck?"

"If you'd please," he replied pleasantly, and she nodded with a smile as reply, letting him turn his attention to the sky outside for a few minutes. It wasn't terribly often that he went over to Lou's for lunch, but a few months after their failed attempt at a romantic relationship they'd fallen into a fast friendship instead. Things got less awkward with every visit, and it was good enough for the two of them.

"How's work?"

Chuck glanced back to the short brunette girl when she slid onto the seat opposite him, placing a tray with two sandwiches and two coffees on the table between them. He shrugged, all his attention shifting onto the conversation while he busied himself with eating.

"Same as usual – boring, repetitive, cheap, and somewhat degrading," he explained, and she let out a small laugh at the description that allowed him a small smile of his own. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm sensing something wrong in your little world, Chuckles," she told him gently. "Just trying to figure out what."

Chuck responded by shrugging and biting into his sandwich, non-committed.

"Trouble with Sarah again?" Lou cautioned, leaning back in her chair and sipping away at her coffee while Chuck stared out at the sky through the shop window. He nodded slightly, glancing back down at his coffee.

"I feel bad about coming now."

"Why?" Lou asked quickly, watching him curiously, somewhat alerted, and he frowned, lifting his eyes up to hers.

"Because you're my friend, but I keep laying all of my relationship problems on you," he explained dryly. He grimaced. "It makes me feel bad. Kind of gives a bad impression. I don't want you to think I only come over here because I can't talk to Sarah."

"Don't you worry about that, Chuck," Lou replied with a smile. "I know that's not it. The last few times were spent with you talking about videogames and your workmates doing their regular weird jazzed up stuff. So talk."

Chuck smiled wryly.

"I'm sorry to offload. It's just that Morgan's pretty worthless in the area, talking to Ellie about things like this is a nightmare, and asking Awesome anything just makes me awkward," he said.

"Ever tried talking to Sarah about things?"

"She doesn't like talking things through," Chuck said dully, fingers skirting the rim of his coffee cup while he frowned at the brown liquid. "Doesn't like talking about a lot of things. And she's awfully good at avoiding the subject. Likes making things difficult."

"So you've been fighting?" Lou asked innocently, and Chuck frowned a little more, shrugging slightly before lifting his troubled gaze back to her.

"I don't even know," he sighed. "Kind of. But with the lack of communication on most levels there, I don't even think it can be considered that. Huh." He lifted his coffee to his lips and took a long pull, sitting in a thoughtful silence with his friend. After a few moments, Lou took to talking again, leaning a little further back in her chair and crossing her arms.

"Well then, Chuck, the only thing I can advise is this," she started gently, cutting into his thoughts. "You need to sit down and think about it. Is she really worth it?"

His eyes shot up to connect with hers in answer to the question, wondering, maybe, whether she was a little jealous of his relationship with Sarah, functioning or no, or if it was just some honest advice. He found no trace of true personal interest in her eyes – only a friendly concern for him, and that made a ghost of a smile play at his lips.

He thought about the question.

True, there were some days where he wondered it himself. Sometimes he thought he was wasting his time – there was no hope for him and the beautiful CIA agent and he should just stop trying. Other times, he honestly didn't know either way. And then, of course, there were the days he wouldn't trade for the world, because he was absolutely certain that Sarah was worth his everything, and those were the times he needed to remember.

With a soft smile on his lips, he glanced over to the Orange Orange through the shop window, then back to the table in front of him, playing with his coffee. He copied Lou, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, eyes on the table.

"Yeah," he said to himself. "She is."

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**R&R - you know, the usual...**


	15. Prove Her Wrong

**Companion piece to last chapter. Short, yeah, but it was an idea that earned credit.**

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When he walked into the Orange Orange (three minutes left on his lunch break, and he was going to cut it close), Sarah had that pasted on smile on her face while she served a few teenage girls their orders. It disappeared as soon as they turned around to leave, and she was left facing Chuck with no visible emotion besides the barely-there furrow of her brow.

When he stopped at the end of the counter to face her, only empty space in between them, he faced her with a small smile. Blank as she was, he could still read her eyes – and she was giving him the same look she always did after he had lunch with Lou.

Wary, as if she were expecting him to end it with her again. Probably a little frustrated, maybe a little hurt, often a little lonely. Never anything she would put into words, though.

It was these moments that were always unspoken between them, and the lack of meant words made the two of them shove those moments aside, as if they never happened at all. Infuriating.

"Have a nice lunch?" she asked him politely, if a little curtly, but his smile didn't waver. He could see it – she was just a little jealous, too.

"Mmhmm," he replied with a small nod, and there was a brief flash in her eyes – panic, probably coming to the same conclusions for the same fears. A repeat of their little truth serum episode, another broken heart, a little more bad timing.

But no.

With the same serene smile, he took another step to fill the negative space between them, and in a gentle, smooth gesture, lifted her chin up with one finger, and pressed a light kiss against her soft lips. They parted only a moment later, and he heard her breath catch.

"Well worth waiting for," he whispered.

Then he turned around, heading out of the store and back to work, and leaving Sarah standing behind the counter, eyes closed, lips parted, and with a light flush on her cheeks.

He always proved her wrong in the most astounding of all fashions, after all.

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**R&R please, in honour of my last written HJ chapter. Maybe if you're all lucky, I'll pull out another one to round it all off. But for the moment, consider HJ complete.**

**Thanks for the run, guys. :)**


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